


Anchor

by Whedonista93



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Future Fic, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27462340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93
Summary: For all the power she gained after the Labyrinth, Sarah rarely deals with higher magical beings, and often forgets the rules.
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 15
Kudos: 101





	Anchor

My will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great. You have no power over me.

*

Words have power, in the Underground. Sarah is but a child, in the grand scheme of things, when she speaks them, but they have power nonetheless.

*

"You're fading, Jareth," his mother frets. "You are straining yourself too far, and you have for too long. Call to her."

"No. I will not trap her."

*

The woman her son is so willing to sacrifice everything for is a lovely thing. Pale skin, dark hair, vibrant green eyes. And _powerful_. She can feel it radiating from her even at a distance, more than half a city block away, and the young woman meets her eyes with no fear.

She approaches the young woman's patio table, at a little corner cafe. "May I join you?"

Sarah waves a hand toward the empty chair across from her.

She sits.

"State your business, Fae," Sarah demands.

"My son is dying."

Sarah looks more closely at the woman in front of her and realizes she recognizes some of her features - the shape of her eyes and the color of her hair, if not the wildness of either she's used to. Wait, she said dying.

Sarah frowns. "Jar-"

The Fae startles. "He gave you his name?"

Sarah barely stops herself from grimacing. For all the power she gained after the Labyrinth, she rarely deals with higher magical beings, and often forgets the rules. She raises an eyebrow, trying to imitate one of Jareth's more imperious expressions.

The Fae looks like she very much wants to roll her eyes. "Nevermind that. Of course he did."

"Names," Sarah _does_ roll her eyes. "I won't ask for yours, but I have to call you something… if you're his mother you were or are a queen in your own right. What are the appropriate addresses for a - your grace is one, I think. May I call you Grace?"

The Fae, an odd expression on her face, slowly inclines her chin in an elegant nod. "You may."

"He's dying, you said?" Sarah asks softly, not quite able to mask to worry in her tone.

"He has been, slowly, since you defeated his Labyrinth."

Sarah jerks in surprise. "What?"

"Words have power, my dear, especially in places like the Underground, and you made yourself his equal, then left him to bear twice his usual burden alone. He is strong, but that wears on anyone."

"He's looked and felt perfectly normal when I've seen him," Sarah protests.

Grace smiles wanly. "And likely expended great amounts of power to do so. He does not want you to see him weak. Have you been back to the Underground, since your run?"

Sarah shakes her head. "My friends always visit me Aboveground."

"It has grown. Wild magic works that way, but it is tied to my son _and_ to you. But you're not in its realm, so it cannot anchor to you. He does not bother to hide his exhaustion so well in his own home."

Sarah lifts her fingers to wrap around the pendant that hangs under her shirt - a match to Jareth's, but smaller and silver, that he had gifted her on her twenty-first birthday. She feels foolish, for not recognizing the significance. She thinks back, over everything Grace has said, over the specific phrasing. Fifteen and naive, Sarah ignorantly made herself a Fae queen, then abandoned her kingdom for seven years. "Why hasn't he said anything?"

"I should, perhaps, rephrase my earlier statement." Grace tilts her gaze, a little clouded over, toward Sarah. "I think he would let you see him weak. He does not want you to know he suffers."

"But I can help! And I'm the only one that can help, aren't I?"

Grace nods. "And that is what I come to ask you to do, since my son will not."

Sarah tilts her head. "Why won't he?"

Grace's expression softens. "I pleaded with him to call for you. He told me he would not trap you."

Sarah blinks.

Grace, in an oddly human gesture, reaches across the table and gently takes Sarah's hand. 

Sarah closes her eyes against a wave of tears. "After all this time, he still thinks I would deny him. He still thinks I would not want to stay with him." She opens her eyes and meets Grace's. "I've only been waiting for him to ask."

Grace shakes her head. "He will never admit as much, but he fears to ask. I believe he thinks he would not survive a second rejection… he may not be wrong."

"But I wouldn't reject him!" Sarah bursts. Her eyes go wide and she slaps both hands over her mouth."

Grace's lips twitch in something close to amusement.

Sarah drops her hands from her face and blushes. "I would not deny him anything."

"Just as he would deny you nothing, but most assuredly, not your freedom."

Sarah looks up from their little table, taking in the austere skyscrapers, the drab people hurrying to get nowhere, the dreary sky. She thinks of her dad, never home, and Karen, still cordial at best. Toby would be her only regret, and she doesn't think she'd actually have to regret him… he knows the truth, and she can't imagine Jareth would try to keep her from her brother. He's not the villain she once thought he was. Sarah has long since accepted that she was the villain of her own story.

She looks back at her companion. "Can you take me to him, Grace?"

Grace shakes her head. "I have even less power over you than my son, and my son has none. But you have the power to take yourself."

Between one blink and the next, Grace is gone.

Sarah glances down at herself, taking in her knee-high riding boots under a gauzy yellow skirt and smiling at the hand-stitched embroidery on her dark linen top. It’s an acceptable look, she determines. Her journal and sketchpad, and a few trinkets from Toby - the only things in her life that hold any real value to her - are already in the canvas bag hanging from her chair. After the Labyrinth, she learned to keep the necessities close at hand. She slings the bag over her shoulder, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, she's on a balcony. Over her shoulder, the Labyrinth spreads as far as the eye can see. Through the open doors in front of her, she sees a sitting room, and Jareth slumped across a plush chaise in front of a fire, looking drawn and tired. Exhausted, really. She sighs and steps inside, setting her bag silently on the floor and slipping her boots off before padding across the room to the Goblins King.

She perches on the chaise, near his hip, and gently brushes his hair back from his face. Mismatched eyes blink up at her blearily. "Sarah?"

Sarah brushed her thumb over his cheek. "I can't decide if I'd rather hit you or kiss you right now."

"I'd prefer a kiss, if it's all the same to you, precious," Jareth mumbles, eyes sliding back closed.

Sarah can't help but smile before she leans forward and bushes her lips lightly over his. The kiss feels like coming home. She feels something settle within her, even as she feels the Labyrinth expand around her. She sighs against his mouth.

Jareth opens his lips under hers, briefly, before he stiffens and his eyes fly fully open.

Sarah pulls back as he shoots upright, and then to his feet. "Sarah!" His body betrays him, then, and he sways.

Sarah jumps up and catches him before he crashes to the floor.

Jareth trembles against her.

Sarah frowns and manhandles the Goblin King to a nearby sofa that's a bit wider than the chaise. She generally shoves him down into the middle of it before settling herself in the corner and tugging Jareth toward her. He practically falls into her, head in her lap. He wearily drags his legs up and turns to press his face against her stomach, whole body still trembling.

Sarah runs her fingers through his hair and hums softly until Jareth's breathing evens out and his body relaxes against hers. Once she's sure he's asleep, she closes her own eyes and, for the first time, consciously, intentionally reaches for the magic in and around her. She feels the castle and the Labyrinth around them, she feels the lands around the outskirts of the Labyrinth. Her mind brushes against every living being in her realm - she smiles at the familiar feel of her friends - and she embraces it all before she finally turns her attention to the King in her lap.

She never expected Jareth's magic to be balanced, it's wild magic after all, but she can practically see the frayed edges, can feel his control and strength unraveling around him. She focuses her entire being on him, not opening her eyes until the last moment, and gives into the instinct to press her lips to his again. Jareth sighs and settles more firmly against her. Sarah smiles and closes her eyes again, this time allowing slumber to take her.

Sarah's not sure whether the sunlight coming in through the still-open balcony doors or Jareth's rustled movements wake her, but she dimly realizes they both must have slept through the night on the sofa. She slowly blinks her eyes all the way open and finds Jareth sitting up, fingers pressed to his lips, and staring at her in disbelief. She raises an eyebrow at him.

  
  


Jareth wakes feeling more refreshed than he has in ages. Gingerly, he reaches out, feeling the realm around him. For the first time in years, the effort doesn’t exhaust him. Before he can relish the feeling, though, he feels a burning at his lips and abruptly remembers Sarah and shoots upright, realizing that he hadn’t dreamt any of it.

Sarah was here. Sarah lulled him to sleep on her lap. Sarah kissed him.

"It wasn't a dream," he breathes out.

Sarah shakes her head. "No, it wasn't." She turns a bit and reaches out to take both his hands, gently twining their fingers together. "Jareth, why didn't you tell me?"

Jareth carefully schools his expression.

Sarah scowls at him and shakes her head, releasing one of his hands to brush her fingers over his temple, then trails her hand down until it rests over his heart. "I can feel you Goblin King, don't you dare try to deny me."

Jareth wilts and scoffs. "I could never deny you anything, precious, that's the problem."

Sarah rolls her eyes and scoots closer, tossing her legs over his and cutting off the escape he'd been considering. "You're a bit of an idiot," Sarah observes mildly.

Jareth looks affronted.

Sarah finally softens and lifts her hand from his chest back to his face. "Jareth, look at me."

He obeys, albeit clearly grudgingly.

Sarah kisses him.

Jareth melts into it, drawing his hands away from her to wrap around her and pull her fully into his lap.

She doesn't pull away until she needs to breathe. Somehow, her hands ended up in his hair. Jareth's hands are on her ass.

Jareth is looking up at her dazedly. "My dear Sarah, I…" he trails off and says something in a language Sarah doesn't recognize, but sounds decidedly like a curse. He drops his face into the cradle of her shoulder. "I fear I find myself at a loss, precious."

Sarah drapes her arms loosely around his shoulders. "Why did you let yourself suffer?"

"You denied me," Jareth whispers against her skin. "I would not, I will not, take that freedom from you."

Sarah rolls her eyes before she remembers Jareth can't see her. "I was a child, Jareth. And you have not asked again since."

Jareth drags his head back, meeting her eyes sharply. "I will not-"

Sarah covers his mouth with one of her hands. "I said _ask_ , Goblin King, not demand. You cannot _take_ my freedom if it is freely given of my own will and power."

Something like hope shines in Jareth's wild eyes. "You would stay?"

Sarah smiles softly. "I thought you were supposed to be clever, Goblin King. I really thought you would have realized by now."

"Realized what, precious?"

"Once upon a time," Sarah teases, "there was a beautiful King, and what everyone but the Goblin King knew, was that his queen had fallen in love with him."


End file.
